


i didn't have to call it loneliness

by handschuhmaus



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Darth Plagueis - James Luceno
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Pancakes, Sith need hugs, Touch-Starved, mostly fluff but they're Sith so it's a little cautious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-11-15 03:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20859158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handschuhmaus/pseuds/handschuhmaus
Summary: Hego Damasklistens to Huey Lewis and the Newsreads a study about infant primates, and unthinkingly tries out the conclusion practically. It has major consequences on his apprentice.





	i didn't have to call it loneliness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluedragoninamber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedragoninamber/gifts).

> _At seventeen, I started to starve myself/I thought that love was a kind of emptiness/And at least then I understood the hunger I felt/And **I didn't have to call it loneliness**_ "Hunger"- Florence+the Machine
> 
> <strike>...anyway, this is sort of a non-sexy, much earlier, less poly, Plagueis-is-less-abusive remix of "Safe and Sound"...</strike>

Sidious, quite frankly, didn't believe Plagueis would do anything about this. His presence on the Muun's parlor sofa, having fallen there exhausted was, at most a nuisance, and he didn't think Damask would begrudge him this much comfort. He had landed on his stomach, his legs bent and arrayed funny to avoid getting any mud that might be on his boot soles on the couch. His face was half pressed into the pillow that was probably meant to sit up decoratively but half the time slid down until it lay horizontally on the seat cushions. That was the reason he didn't have a good view of things when his master walked in, an inscrutable if pensive (given Sidious was any judge) expression on his face. 

And then Plagueis did something quite unexpected. He not only noticed Sidious on the sofa, but he walked up, dropped carefully to one knee, and, seemingly staring at his hand, placed it on Sidious's back.

Which was extremely suspicious! At least he hadn't hit any of the bruises acquired tumbling down that steep icy hill the other day.

"Would you... would you like something warm to drink? Redbush tea, perhaps?" he asked, his voice unwontedly timid.

"I'm just exhausted," Sidious reported warily, talking half into the sofa pillow.

"It might help you sleep," the Muun offered, sounding quite unlike himself.

"Why're you touching my back?" Sidious mumbled, hoping he'd get some kind of reasonable answer.

"An experiment," was his answer, and Damask's eyes lit up with interest as he said it.

Reluctantly, he turned his mouth slightly from the pillow and remarked more lucidly, "Fail to see how touching my back is supposed to constitute an experiment. You're not just trying to see how long it takes me to mention it, are you?" 

"The study I just read suggested to me that humanoid performance might be enhanced by, uh, certain touch."

"This had better not be about getting me laid." Which was insolence, but of a type that had better stand, if this was going to be any better than life under Cosinga.

Damask blinked with confusion. "Quite the opposite. It was connected with children." 

"I'm--not exactly a child," Sidious said, not sure if it was quite an objection, or if, in some respects, he would entirely mind being treated like a Muun child. The way in which Plagueis had brought up the subject, it did not sound like it was an effort to control children, exactly. Maybe it was about touch. Which was...awkward.

"Arguably true, although I believe your brain is still maturing. But I believe the study may be more widely applicable. And yet, it would not be applicable to Fourdee, who is the only other person--er, droid in my household currently. Do you feel any different for having been touched for several minutes?"

Sidious grimaced and considered for a moment. The surprising conclusion was that since Damask had touched him, his mood had perked up, and yet--"I think there are confounding factors."

"Yes, hmm, I supposed I'd have to talk about or otherwise expose you to similar things to get a better idea of the immediate effect," the older Sith mused. "Well, did you want some tea?"

"No, not really. I need to go to bed," he reported, but he was also oddly aware just now of the relative warmth of Damask's hand on his back (despite the fact that Muun body temperatures were cooler than humans') and the fact that no one had consciously touched him like this for some time.

"Of course," answered his master in a somewhat preoccupied voice and jerking his hand away, both of which served as a cue for Sidious to pick himself up off the sofa and begin ridding himself of his boots.

"Say, er, since you're going to bed, would you mind if I 'ruffled' your hair?" Damask muttered this as he too stood, sounding almost slightly drunk. And he couldn't think of a passable reason to actually say no, despite being unsure whether he wanted it.

But he still asked, "Is this part of your experiment?"

The increasing surity of the reply seemed newfound. "Well--yes, I suppose it is."

So Sidious nodded, a little resentfully, and stood still while the Muun's long fingers almost petted his hair, leaving it in the expected disarray. He didn't remember anyone else doing this--Cosinga had been reluctant to touch him outside of punishments (for transgressions real and imagined), and his mother and grandmother had always seemed to fear messing up his appearance, as if they wouldn't be able to put it right in time. Furthermore, there was a bizarre tension to the gesture, almost as if he ought to be--the thought sounded terrible--wrapped within Damask's arms otherwise, and close up against his smell of lab reagents, sometimes alcohol, and soap scented with a peculiar alpine herb native to Mygeeto.

Damask sighed, a maudlin half-grin on his face, and withdrew his hand. "You can go to bed now, ...Sidious." And just then his Sith title sounded reluctant, less as if Damask resented assigning it to him, and more as if he wanted to say something else.

This was, altogether, a mildly troubling development, despite being essentially pleasant thus far. If Damask was inclined to see him as a child--that meant profound impotence and likely disrespect for his hard fought abilities. But how to get out of it? Arguing might fix Plagueis' course contrary to his intentions. But maybe he would forget, if encouraged, or could be persuaded that actual children might represent more appropriate subjects...

Those were the mode of his thoughts as he slipped underneath the blanket, finding blissful warmth not yet denied his sleeping self, in contrast with the chill of the house on Mygeeto.


End file.
